


callipygian

by jujubes



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Intergluteal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 16:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubes/pseuds/jujubes
Summary: “Did you really give me the sign to meet for sex,” Wonwoo asks incredulously, “when you weren’t intending to fuck? Why exactly are we here then?!”





	callipygian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kumadesu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumadesu/gifts).



The best thing about pants with a zip-up fly, Junhui thinks, is how quickly that means he can have Wonwoo’s cock out at a moment’s notice.

“You’re cutting it a bit close, waiting almost to the end,” Wonwoo says, turning Junhui around and shoving him up against the door.

The movement comes so quickly, Junhui can do little more than slam his palms against the paint to support his own weight, or go careening head first into the vinyl.

Junhui takes the time, while he’s there, to turn the deadbolt on the bathroom door to a locked position, not that anyone could get inside at this point with the two of them pushed up against the door, but better safe than sorry. Sometimes...sometimes they purposefully keep the door unlocked in their dorms when no one else is supposed to be around, because Wonwoo got breathy once from the prospect of being caught, and Junhui likes breathy out of control Wonwoo. But it’s one thing to get caught in a relatively low risk situation, and another to be found by a stranger, so locking doors remains something Junhui keeps vigilant about, a detail with no room for complacency.

“I wasn’t planning on anything today…” Junhui pouts ineffectually at the door. “You were the one who kept looking at me like that…”

“Keep dreaming,” Wonwoo says, his chest pressed along Junhui’s back.

Through their pants Junhui can feel Wonwoo’s semi digging into his left thigh, tight against his hamstrings, and the longer Wonwoo grinds against him, the harder the erection digging into Junhui’s leg gets.

Wonwoo holds out a hand, curling all of his fingers once in turn to speed Junhui along, and Junhui reaches down into his sock, making sure to lean his ass back and provide Wonwoo some friction, rubbing Wonwoo’s clothed cock between the insides of his thighs, just below his bum, before producing a sachet of lube between his fingers and depositing the thin rectangle on Wonwoo’s palm.

Wonwoo waves his fingers again.

Another thing Junhui doesn’t compromise on is condoms, more because he thinks it’s a good habit to keep up than because he’s worried either of them will be catch anything.

“I don’t want you putting anything in me today. I’m sore enough as it is, and we still have to sit for another half hour at least.”

“Did you really give me the sign to meet for sex,” Wonwoo asks incredulously, “when you weren’t intending to fuck? Why exactly are we here then?!”

Wonwoo says _the_ sign, but really there’s really several of them, involving a wide assortment of arm and hand movements, as well as standing and sitting positions, all leading to ‘meet in the room’ or ‘meet in the bathroom’ and anywhere from ‘now’, ‘five minutes’, ‘in an hour’.

“Surely you’re not that unimaginative, _Wonwon_ ,” Junhui purrs. He wiggles backward to nudge Wonwoo in the right direction.

Wonwoo places one hand on either side of Junhui’s butt and squeezes. “You don’t even have an ass,” he says, squeezing again in a way that totally convinces both of them of what he’s saying. “Just suck me off then and we’ll call it a day.”

“Yeah, okay,” Junhui snorts, unfastening the top of his pants and then pulling down the zip. He shimmies both pants and underwear off, tugging down with his thumbs hooked over the bands, making sure that Wonwoo feels every twist and wriggle. “You’re one of the only two people who don’t drop to their knees in the choreography we perform every single day but you want _me_ to get down on my bruises and give _you_ the blowjob?”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck. I hate this choreo, I hate all of you for creating it, and I hate being blue balled.”

“You have lube and my butt, and you better hurry up or I’m going to lose interest in making it good.”

“Fuck.”

Junhui turns half-way to face him, hands on his hips. “Explain to me exactly when my ass has ever done wrong by you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo waves a hand and quickly turns him back around. “No, ugh. Fuck, if I’m not in your mouth or a condom I have to be careful about getting anything on our clothes, you idiot.” He hikes Junhui’s shirt up until it’s around his sternum and makes him hold it there before snapping his suspenders over his arms and pushing his own pants down to his knees.

“Okay,” Junhui says, raising a finger, “Can we make a deal not to use that word if anyone’s dick is out? I don’t want ‘idiot’ to turn into a _thing_.”

For a moment, there’s silence in the bathrooms. Junhui can imagine Wonwoo’s face, it’s gone all blank so he can make his signature ‘…’ expression. After a breath that comes out suspiciously like a sigh, Wonwoo clears his throat. “Junnie, you pop boners at the weirdest fucking things.”

“Then stop getting me turned on by the weirdest fucking things!”

“How was I supposed to know that you were going to like _ice cubes_ , of all the shit we had in the kitchen,” Wonwoo mutters, spreading Junhui apart with his hands so he can shift his dick firmly between the globes of Junhui’s butt. It’s a weird sort of angle, requiring him to buck upward instead of forward, putting the pressure on his knees instead of his hips. “I can’t believe you can get it up with word associations, but I’m literally humping your ass and you’re completely flaccid.”

Junhui can’t see it happening, but he can hear Wonwoo ripping open the lube and after Wonwoo finishes slicking himself up, Junhui finally feels the cool press of Wonwoo’s length sliding vertically between his ass cheeks.

As soon as Junhui feels Wonwoo wedged firmly in place, he arches his back and tilts his pelvis out, squeezing his glutes together. The tightness draws a godless noise from Wonwoo’s lips, breathy and heady and uninhibited. Junhui doesn’t need to be spurting cum on the walls to enjoy this, not when his body alone can earn him Wonwoo’s wild side, smells and sounds bursting in Junhui’s head and making him giddy. It’s not like he’s not excited, not when there’s slick lubricant dripping along his asscrack and he can feel Wonwoo’s cock right there, hard and heavy.

But it’s a relaxed kind of arousal, like lying stretched out on the beach somewhere with sun beating down on your skin, tinging your cheeks pink, warming you all over. He enjoys it, it’s a nice feeling but not one requiring immediate whacking off, just a slow and lazy contentment.

“If you go just a little bit faster, we might make it out of here before someone starts asking where we are.”

Wonwoo doesn’t need to be told twice, thrusting between Junhui’s perky buns with one hand on Junhui’s shoulder, the other grabbing at his waist.

Once, when he’d actually been inside Junhui and not just rubbing against him, he’d shoved his face between Junhui’s shoulder blades, moaning incessantly and left a faceful of foundation on the fabric there, leaving them to scrub at the shirt ineffectually for a solid ten minutes. They know better now, so Wonwoo keeps his head up, his grunts guttural, and his movements rhythmic, rocking slowly but increasing in pace, while Junhui holds everything in place for him.

“Ah, fuck,” Wonwoo bites out suddenly, releasing a breath so long he might have been holding it the entire time. Actually, knowing Wonwoo, that’d be exactly the kind of thing he’d be into.

“Mm…see? You like my butt.”

“You don’t…” Wonwoo huffs out slowly, “even have…a butt…”

God, Junhui’s toes curl just hearing Wonwoo struggle to make out the words.

“So you’re just fucking the air then, I guess,” Junhui teases. What a nice reversal, finally being the one to do all the talking for once, while Wonwoo comes up short. He doesn’t even have a comeback for him, just grips Junhui’s shoulder tight, digging his fingers into the bone. If Junhui comes out of this with bruises, the price is worth it for how nice it is to make Wonwoo feel so good he’s rendered speechless.

No comments forthcoming, Junhui’s eyes flutter closed, and he bites his lip from the sheer effort he’s putting into thinking about his ass, balancing firm but not too tight and responding to each hitch of Wonwoo’s breath. It’s hard enough work that his own dick barely twitches. It helps that most of him is tight, the muscles in his legs and his abdominals contracted as well to keep him in his current position.

“C-close, haaa…”

When Wonwoo comes he doesn’t shout, instead, the noise seems to go inside him, swallowed by a thick inhale of air. It’s not until he’s coming down from his high, panting to catch his breath, that Junhui releases the clenched muscles of his butt, aching from being squeezed for so long.

“We’re too far from the paper towel dispenser,” Wonwoo says when his breathing returns to normal, voice quiet.

“You chose the door,” Junhui replies without any heat. His head swarms with thick clouds, a blissful post-coital lethargy hanging over him despite not being hard at any point. “We might have been able to move closer if you gave me more warning.”

“Hm.”

Wonwoo extracts himself and shuffles over to get them the necessary materials to clean up. The sight makes Junhui giggle, Wonwoo’s pants at his knees, his cock hanging out, his steps like a side-to-side waddle. He wipes himself off first and yanks his trousers back over his hips and suspender straps over his shoulders before returning to clear the remnants of his orgasm from the groove in Junhui’s lower back and towels at the grease coating Junhui’s bum.

Junhui puts his own pants back on, shimmying to get the waistband over his thighs and around his tummy. “I can still kind of…feel it.” He takes a few steps around himself to test things out and then circles his hips to loosen the fabric of his boxers clinging to his still sticky skin. “It’s weird. Maybe next time we should try thighs instead of ass.”

“Maybe next time you should grow a pair of tits,” Wonwoo says and pauses from tucking his shirt in to punch Junhui lightly in the chest. His eyes linger where his fist lands and he wrinkles his nose. “On second thought, never mind. Thighs it is.”

Before turning around to leave, Junhui makes sure Wonwoo sees his harumph, and then shoves his hands into his pockets to strut out of the bathroom with his nose in the air.

“Junnie.”

When he turns around to look, Wonwoo’s staring straight ahead instead of looking at him. There’s a hand on Junhui’s ass, gentle, which is probably Wonwoo’s way of saying that it’s a good bum, regardless of its size.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The other thing Junhui likes about pants with a zip-up fly is that when they’re done, they can just zip and carry on with their day like they hadn’t just gone for a daytime bathroom quickie.

But for this theoretical advantage to work, Wonwoo has to actually _zip up_.

They wander past the curtains back on stage to where the fan-sign table waits in the auditorium hall, the giant grin on Wonwoo’s face evidence of his good mood. Junhui’s pleased as punch as well, but he’s got years of experience as a child actor so he does a much better job of hiding it. You’re not supposed to look ecstatic about a chance to pee, although, Wonwoo might not care enough to pretend.

From the other end of the table Junhui sees Jisoo leaning over to whisper in Wonwoo’s ear and that’s when he notices.

And Wonwoo says _Junhui_ ’s an idiot.

It’s true that they go through dozens of wardrobe changes, sometimes in a single day, but how much of an idiot do you have to be to forget to zip up your own fly? That was something little kids did, not fully grown adults.

At least Junhui gets confirmation that it’s not that Wonwoo _can’t_ act but just that he doesn’t want to. Because in this instance, he pretends that whatever Jisoo’s just whispered to him is completely trivial, takes a moment to stand around and then slowly makes a few steps to duck behind the projector screen. Facing the back of the stage, Wonwoo zips himself up, adjusts his waistband, and then circles back around, pulling off fake nonchalance with the ease of a professional actor.

Honestly, it’s kind of hot.

Junhui’s butt twinges with agreement.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> references:
> 
> 1\. [returning from the bathroom together](http://68.media.tumblr.com/b05731eae10f8f369e0cd1666c81f297/tumblr_oqo1j9uJEt1vbysybo1_500.gif)  
> 2\. [wonwoo's wardrobe malfunction](https://twitter.com/vocalwonwoo/status/868561128728793088)


End file.
